I Will Swallow You Whole
by luxsolis
Summary: Bill always knew he was different from his other siblings, from most people really. He had figured it out from a young age, thankfully, and had learned to adapt. He just didn't see the world the same way most people did. Few things excited him, and even fewer concerned him at all. She caught his attention though... Bill x Hermione, DARK fic, read the warnings.


NOTE: Same as all my other stories. NO WAR. This is a AU.

WARNING: This gets DARK, and has UNDERAGE Hermione in sexual situations with an adult. I DO NOT condone or encourage any of the situations I write about in this story. I do not believe children or teenagers can consent to sexual relationships with adults. This is just a story, make believe. If you or anyone you know is in a situation similar to this. Please reach out and get help.

Not too much dialogue this chapter, and you guys know I love my banter. Lol, there will be tons of banter, and talking between characters after this though. This sets the story up. Also, this will be BILL x Hermione. But there will be hints of Riddle-Hermione, and Harry-Hermione.

* * *

**I Will Swallow You Whole**

Chapter 1

The first time Bill met her, she was 15. It was a warm summer night, and he was coming round his parents for Sunday dinner. She was seated under the willow by the lake on the west side of the property. A book on her lap, her plain black summer dress scrunched up a bit high on her thighs. Wild dark curls that just touched her shoulder blades, tied back with a limp black ribbon. She was smiling a quiet smile at something the Potter boy was telling her. Ron sat between the two, a sour look on his face. Later, Bill would find out from the Twins that the girls name was Hermione. A new friend of Harry's that Ron was forced to interact with.

Later that night, he would get his first chance to get a real good look at her. Seated across from him at the dining room table. She had large brown eyes that were permanently half lidded. Bedroom eyes some would call them. Olive tan skin, buttery smooth, she sat with a straight back, perfect posture. Percy's own rigid posture looked forced and awkward next to her effortless composure. The only blemish her saw on her was a scar, a pale white line, right in the middle of her neck, impossible to hide. It went all the way across. Her voice was feminine but low, almost a whisper. When she spoke the entire table went silent to listen. A feat Bill had always thought impossible in the Weasley household.

Sitting there at the dining room table, listening to her speak, seeing that same quite smile up close, her deep dark eyes taking everything in. He got a familiar itch at the back of his neck. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, not really. And when Harry put his hand on her arm while reaching over to grab another dinner roll, she had tensed up, the barest bit.

He carried on of course. Making sure to talk to everyone at the table, to tease and joke with his brothers. Compliment his Mother's cooking, commiserate with his father and Harry about the French Quidditch League and the new changes they were making, and how it would be a sin if Britain followed suite. Eventually as the night wore on, he found himself alone on the front porch with the girl. Hermione.

"Your name, is it from A Winter's Tale?"

She looked up from a small book she had been reading, a bit startled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you step out. Um-No, actually, it's from a David Bowie song. Letters to Hermione."

"Ah! I actually know that bloke."

Bill snapped his fingers in success. She stared wide eyed at him, the beginnings of a small smile on her tiny mouth, another fake smile. She had a dimple, just one, on her left cheek. Bill hadn't noticed that before. Her top lip was a perfect little cupids bow, with an impossibly pouty bottom lip. He could just imagine the sight of that little mouth was probably going to start driving the boys in her class mad soon enough.

"You know David Bowie? Personally?"

"Ha! No, I'm sorry. I meant I actually know of that Muggle musician. Sirius, Harry's Godfather, gave me a bunch of muggle records and a record player for christmas a while back. That David Bowie bloke was in the stack."

She nodded in understanding, her eyes sparkling as she bit her bottom lip, trying to hide a smirk. He spent 20 minutes out on the porch with her. They talked about her schooling, about his job as a curse breaker, and made general non-consequential small talk. Bill excused himself soon enough, going back inside to roughhouse with the twins.

He stayed late, ended up dozing on the couch. Or so it would appear. His mother shushed everyone, and stopped the twins from pulling a prank on him. She sent everyone up to bed, and covered him with a blanket before turning out the lights and retiring to bed herself. Bill waited patiently. Waited as the noise of the house slowly died down. And then he waited some more, until it was nearly three in the morning, and he was sure every person in the house was truly asleep.

Patience was key in Curse Breaking. Planning, being ready for any outcome. Bill got up, slowly, quietly, he stopped in front of the door to his parents' room first. He did not draw his wand, instead he took off the fanged earing he wore. With it in hand, he moved it in a series of patterns, before moving on to the next door, and then the next. The small fang was more than a trendy accessory, it was a talisman. The inhabitants sleeping peacefully in their rooms would continue to slumber, deeply so, with blissful dreams for company. Nothing would wake them other than the first rays of dawn.

Once all the rooms had been secured, he backtracked, checking each room, and making sure each inhabitant was where they ought to be, and his enchantments held tight. Caution that verged on paranoia is what always kept Bill safe, kept him from getting caught. Finally, he made his way out to the front door. A small cut on his hand and then applied to the rough wood, he keyed himself into the family wards. Wards he had helped his father update. He overlaid the standing wards with his own, to alert him before anyone came close to the dwelling.

Finally, he could go. With a deep breath, he turned, walking with purpose, he made his way upstairs to the second floor. He did not try to hide the sounds of his footsteps, there was no need after all. He didn't even pause in front of the door to his sisters room, opening the door, and carelessly kicking it shut behind him with his foot.

Bill walked up to the cot that had been set up in the corner of Ginny's room. He spared only a quick glance at his sister, who slept face down in her pillow, arms stretched out on either side of her like an eagle, a pose only a child could wake up from without any pain. Finally he found himself at the edge of her bed. Hermione.

She slept on her back, one hand on her stomach, the other above her head, her face slightly tilted into the crook of her arm. Her dark curls were french braided back from her face. Bill pulled back the light weight sheet that was covering her. She was in a matching set, a faded black tank top and shorts that had white trim. He sat down on the cot beside her, as he looked her over. She was incredibly young, only in her 5th year, no one so young and new had ever grabbed his attention before.

Bill always knew he was different from his other siblings, from most people really. He had figured it out from a young age, thankfully, and had learned to adapt. He just didn't see the world the same way most people did. Few things excited him, and even fewer concerned him at all. When he was a teenager there had been an accident down the way at the Lovegoods residence. Little Luna Lovegoods mother had died. He felt a bit of sorrow at the situation, but no real hurt. His only real thought had been that Mrs. Lovegood would no longer be around to give him the Ginger cookies that he liked so much.

He watched over his siblings as they grew, not out of any real affection, but because he knew it was expected. His sister had taken a shine to him for some reason which had become an annoyance. She was always watching him, always following. It had become unbearable until he moved out of the house. Of course he bared it all with a smile and a laugh to the outside world.

As for the things that excited him. Though few and far between, there were some. Money of course. Money could get you anything you wanted in the world. Using money was better than stealing, stealing brought unwanted attention, and Bill did not like to attract unwanted eyes upon himself. Puzzles also excited him, half the reason he went into curse breaking. Each curse was different, and there were endless possibilities. Plus the treasure. Oh how he loved treasure, such unique finds, all his for the taking, so much knowledge and power hoarded for him and him alone to find!

Children had never caught his attention, yet here he was. She was a pretty little thing, sure, but not a stunning beauty. She was_ powerful_ though, for her age, anyone within 50 feet of her could feel it. That excited him. Magic seemed to ooze off the girl, made the air shine a bit around her. It was exciting, and rare. Bill so loved rare things, loved to own rare things.

Moving to lay alongside her on the cot, he made himself comfortable. Running a finger down her straight nose, following the bow of her lip, down her chin till her wrapped his hand around her neck. Squeezing lightly, her breath hitched, but she did not wake. Her let go, and traced the scar he found there. It was a thin line of white, slightly raised going half way around her neck.

Reaching down he grabbed onto the hem of her shirt and pulled it up roughly, jostling her thin body as he did so. Bill looked down at her bare chest. Small breasts just starting to come in, pert and swollen, perfectly tiny little pink nipples peaked from the open air. She had a small smattering of freckles, fetchingly arranged across her chest. And 3 small moles that arched over the swell of one breast. Like a little constellation.

He plucked at her nipples, each in turn, listening as she mewled quietly in her sleep at his ministrations. He felt the ends of his fingers get hot and stopped right away. How _fascinating_! It was known that unlike Muggles, Witches could not be raped. Even asleep, or knocked out, their magic would work to protect them, burning anyone who dared to violate them. You could kill or torture a witch, but for some reason, the magic would never allow rape.

Bill had never had the inclination to test that little bit of knowledge before. He still didn't, not exactly, which was probably why he had been able to get as far as he had before her Magic reacted. He wanted the Witch though, of course. Bill, though different, still had a very healthy sexual appetite, just never before for children, or a teenager in this case. But the power of her! It was intoxicating, the hard-on straining the front of his pants was proof of that.

Next he pulled down her little shorts. Careful not to touch her skin. She was completely bare, though old enough to have at least some hair down there. So she must spell it away. It was quite lovely, Bill had heard women did that, but had never seen it himself. Getting up on all fours, he moved down to straddle her legs, bending his head down close to smell her. (Still not touching her though, of course.)

She smelled of jasmine, amber, and the woodsy earthy smell of a woman. Sitting up to a tall knee, he reached for his belt, undoing it and opening his trousers. Bending back over her, her slight frame caged between his limbs as he took himself in hand.

"You are such a lovely little treasure aren't you darling? So perfect, made just for me."

He licked his lips, grunting as his hand sped up its pace. The cot shaking from his movements, making her small breast bounce.

"One day treasure, you will be awake for this. You will melt onto my cock won't you? Of course you will, this body was made for me after all."

Soon enough, he felt it, his climax was coming. Embarrassingly quickly in fact, but she wasn't awake to judge, and it had been an age since he had been this excited. With a shout, he came across her body. White stripes coating her bare mound, stomach, and breasts. Claiming her as his own, his precious treasure.

Breathing heavily he took in the sight of her. Marked by him, just as she ought to be. Arranging his clothes back into place, he soon found himself sitting down on the edge once again, leaning over her. He reached out, and rubbed his seman into her skin. He did not get burned, all sexual tension gone from his body, and mind. Intent was everything when it came to Magic after all. And he was not trying to molest the girl, no, he was just making sure to rub his mark into her. She was his now after all.

Once he was done, he pulled her shorts back up gently, and then her shirt. Making sure everything was back in place. Running a hand over the arm she had above her head, he went to grab it. Else the poor thing waken in the morning with it aching from the angle, he grabbed a hold of her wrist.

With a shout, he fell off the cot heavily, his entire left arm felt as if it had been dunked in a vat of acid. As if someone had cast the Cruciatus on him, the pain was nearly unbearable, then it was gone. As if it had never happened. Panting, Bill stared up at the ceiling of his sisters shabby little room. Minutes passed by as he collected himself.

"What the bloody fuck was that?"

Picking himself up gingerly, he looked over at the Witch still sleeping in the cot. She had moved herself, now sleeping on her side. She looked perfectly fine, a few stray curls having made their way out of her braid and fell across her face. Her brows were slightly drawn, in the barest of frowns. But otherwise she seemed fine.

"That wasn't very nice Treasure. You have some explaining to do."

Cautiously, the red headed Curse Breaker made his way back to Hermione. Looking her over, he noticed her wrists, or at least, he didn't notice. His eyes seemed to keep jumping away from the slender expanse of skin there. He could see her arm, and her hands, but when he tried to concentrate on the spot between, he wasn't able to.

Curious, so wonderfully curious. The pain experienced earlier was soon forgotten, he had a puzzle in front of him. And Bill loved puzzles. He got to work, it took hours, in fact by the time he cracked it, it was nearly morning. His time was almost up, the sun would be rising soon. The first rays of morning would break his enhancement over the occupants of the Burrow.

He could see her wrists now, each adorned with a golden cuff. The cuffs hugged her wrists like a second skin. No room between her skin and the metal that he could discern. He dared not touch them again. Bill had noticed her wrist, the one he had grabbed, was slightly pink. Whatever had happened to him, it had also affected her. Thankfully his sleep charm had held.

There was no magic to them, that he could tell. Which was simply amazing, as they were clearly made using magic. No, no magic there to give any clues. But the magic that had been hiding the bracelets, that was different. And as he had worked the night away, it had dawned on him just who had cast that enchantment.

So powerful, so clever and subtle. Very few others would have been shocked by the bracelets in fact. But the enchanter had made a slight miscalculation. Anyone with a certain amount of power, whom got close enough to touch them, would get a nasty surprise. There were few with that much power available. Bill himself, though a strong wizard with a deep magical well to draw from, could tell the spell had reacted more to his knowledge than actual power. There were different types of power after all, and the knowing of things was its own sort of power.

The sun would be up in moments, so Bill desisted. Letting the enchantments fall back into place to hide the cuffs. He made sure everything was just right, so the caster would not know his work had been disturbed. It was only temporary of course. He would not stand to have another's mark on his Treasure. But first he had to figure out why it was there, what those gold pieces did.

He had just made it downstairs and to the front door, disassembling his personal wards from the home wards, when it hit him. What it was those cuffs did. Bill had never felt fear before, not really. Like many emotions, it was always muted, a shadow of what it seemed others felt. But now, what Bill felt now must surely be close to real fear. The idea of what those cuffs did.

And then there was anger, yes, that was real. He felt it clearly.

* * *

There was a Weasley standing at the doors to his office. Well, at least it was the good one, the dangerous one. Tom Riddle had little time for fools, and the Weasley family was chocked full of them. Bill Weasley was no fool though, no, Bill Weasley was a different breed entirely. He was like Tom.

Tom had felt it the first time they had met. Like recognized like after all. They had circled each other that first meeting, both recognizing what the other was. If it had truly come down to a contest of strength Tom would have obviously won. There were few in the world that could match Tom Riddles power and capability after all. Thankfully, it never came to that.

They wanted different things, which made them safe. Or at least safe from each other. Bill wanted nothing to do with Politics, or the shaping of the world around him. Bill coveted knowledge, and rarity. Like a dragon accumulating a horde, all Bill wanted out of life was the challenge of puzzles others could not solve, and the rewards that came from the endeavor. Tom could respect that.

Since their goals were as different as their occupations, the two hardly had any dealings with the other. Though, from time to time, Tom would send work the red headed Wizards way. And every now and again, Weasley would have a tip off for Tom. Which is what Tom assumed her was doing here today.

Without a word, Tom walked passed the Wizard, moving to drop the wards when he noticed they were already gone. Walking in, he took note that though the wards had been dropped, no one had entered his Office. Cheeky brat, but clever. Powerful enough to figure a way around his warding, and smart enough not to cross the unforgivable line of entering Toms office uninvited.

With a sigh, Tom let it slide. He let few such things slide in his life, but Bill was different after all, and Tom was sure the allure of figuring out Toms warding would have been irresistible to the boy.

"Come in Weasley, shut the door behind you, and tell me why you are here."

Doing as he was told the tall wizard stood in front of Toms desk, his handsome face set in stone.

"Do you know what Binding Cuffs are?"

Tom blinked once, then twice, before nodding his head curtly while carefully controlling his features. But Weasley was a clever boy, too clever by half. He stepped back, his eyebrows raised slightly, his body language wary.

"I have found a child, a teenager, who has been Bound."

Tom Riddle gripped the arms of his chair tightly, staring up at the man before him. His heart nearly stopped at what he said next.

"And I believe it is Albus Dumbldore that has Bound her.

* * *

So originally, I had planned for Hermione to be 12 for this story. But it was just way too icky to write out the scene above, and future scenes. Grossed me out, I just couldn't do it. So I upped her age to 15, which is still pretty gross, but more manageable I suppose. So yeah, when reading this, please understand this is pretty hard to write, and I plan on moving the timeline along quick to get her to a legal age.

**PLEASE REVIEW**, reviews feed me! Like in Peter Pan, when you clap to save the fairies, Review to save your Authors. We live for reviews!


End file.
